


Soft Nights

by KittyCargo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Art welcome, Body Image, Body Positivity, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Food, Love, Making Dinner, Multi, Podfic Welcome, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Softness, do not repost to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:33:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22040107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyCargo/pseuds/KittyCargo
Summary: Neville is reminiscing about the war and the aftermath while making dinner for Ginny and Luna.
Relationships: Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37
Collections: Chubby Neville Fest





	Soft Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to both my beta readers. @keyflight790, I appreciate your encouragement and insights in going for this fic. It had been in my head for a while but I needed your extra push of "Yes! I would read this!" to actually do it. @thehufflebean, I loved your perspective and comments while I was in the mess of writing. Thank you both for seeing how soft this was and loving it as much as I did.

**Present Day-Eight Years After The Battle of Hogwarts**

It’s cold outside, but warm in the kitchen as Neville carefully chops vegetables for chicken soup, starting with the carrots because they would take the longest to cook. They're already peeled and rinsed, and he carefully slices them into small coins, far more precise than any ingredients he had ever sliced for potions. He adds them to the pot on the stove with a couple good pats of butter, then turns the burner between medium and low. Turning back to his cutting board, Neville picks up the rinsed celery from the counter, and uses his thumb to rub at a particularly stubborn dirt spot on the celery, dripping water on himself in the process. He feels the cold water on the skin of his stomach, and plucks at the hem of the shirt. It takes him a moment to find his wand amongst the clutter on the counter, but he eventually locates it hiding behind the flour canister and casts a small drying charm, letting his shirt fall back to where it hugged just a smidge tight on his tummy. He pauses in the cooking, and plucks at the shirt a couple more times, feeling a confusing mix of both frustration and pride in the way his clothes fit him now.

**One Month After The Battle of Hogwarts**

“Look at you, Neville! You look wonderful! How much weight have you lost?” He knew that his gran’s friend, whose name he could not place at the moment, was trying to be kind, that many people would be proud of the accomplishment, but his fingers involuntarily tightened around the bottle in his hand. He had to force himself to keep breathing, and plastered a small smile on his face, finished the conversation as politely as he could manage, and then hurried out of the shop without buying anything. He didn’t quite remember the brisk walk down the busy street of Diagon Alley, through the dingy bar of The Leaky Cauldron, focused only on returning to the flat in London. His grandmother had only recently told him about it, but it had seemed like the perfect place to stay. The renewed noise of the busy Muggle street of London brought Neville back into his body but before he could think more about the unhappy relationship that he had with it, he collided with something solid and glanced down to see who he had hit.

“Harry,” he greeted, breaking out of his daze. Harry looked terrible. He’d had a haircut since Neville had last seen him at Hogwarts, but there were still dark shadows under his eyes. Harry had always been thin, but it wasn’t the lithe seeker kind of thin now. His cheekbones jutted out sharply and something about his whole demeanor looked hunted, like he was still on the run.

“ ‘Lo Nev,” Harry murmured, struggling to make eye contact.

“What are you doing in London? Where are Ron and Hermione?”

“Australia,” Harry said simply, as if that was self-explanatory. “I was going to ask Tom about renting a room.”  
“Oh, are you not staying at The Burrow?” Harry shrugged noncommittally. It took Neville a moment to remember the big townhouse Ginny had mentioned. “Or Grimmauld Place?” Harry actually grimaced at the mention of his godfather’s house. Neville knew better than to mention Harry’s Muggle relatives.

There was an awkward pause between the two of them, and just as Harry looked as if he was about to leave, without consideration Neville blurted out, “Would you like to stay with me?”

Harry blinked at him. Neville continued, starting to blabber mindlessly in his nervousness, “It’s just, apparently my gran has several properties but she’s usually renting them out, but I asked her if I could rent this one. It’s in London, it’s got two bedrooms. It’s a couple blocks from here, but it wouldn’t be nearly as busy as Diagon Alley! It’d be nice to share the space, it’s been a bit lonely all by myself.” Neville finally took a deep breath, and Harry gave a small smile.

Harry moved in the next day. Harry and Neville had never been the best of friends before, but there was something in each other that they understood. Harry went to war trials at the ministry every day, and Neville went off to Hogwarts to help rebuild, both arriving home physically and emotionally exhausted. They spoke little as they ate dinner together, and slept in separate rooms until Neville woke up one night to Harry’s screams. He rushed in to find Harry still asleep, having a nightmare. He gently woke Harry up, but when Harry clutched at him, unable to let go but also unable to ask for what he wanted, Neville took the initiative and climbed in next to Harry. He held Harry, relieved when Harry finally stopped trembling and his breathing evened out. 

The next morning, Harry mentioned that he, Ron, and Hermione had slept practically on top of each other for a year in their tiny tent, and Neville guiltily remembered the nights that he, Ginny, and Luna had done the same, squeezing into his small bed for comfort at Hogwarts. They didn’t discuss it further, but when they went to bed that night it was together, Neville wrapped around Harry, who was still far too thin.

Harry and Neville had eaten take-away for a month straight when Neville brought it home one day only to find Harry cooking. They’d both been offered jobs as Aurors, something Neville had turned down immediately, and although Harry was considering it, Neville hoped he’d turn it down as well. He wouldn’t interfere, but he thought Harry needed more time. His nightmares were still frequent, and though he’d gained a bit of weight he still looked underfed.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Neville remarked, placing stasis charms on the curries he’d gotten and then putting them in the fridge to be eaten later. Harry was shredding chicken on a cutting board Neville hadn’t known they owned, and when Neville opened the pot on the stove, a waft of steam floated up, smelling hearty and rich. By the time that Neville had changed out of his work clothes and washed his hands, Harry was dipping soup into bowls that he set on the table with a loaf of bread.

Harry was very quiet, and Neville waited patiently for Harry to be ready. He had learned over the past month that if left alone, Harry would eventually tell Neville what he was thinking. They ate in companionable silence, and when Neville had finished his bowl of soup, Harry immediately served him up more. When they were both settled again, Harry began talking without looking up from his soup.

“I started cooking when I was very young. So young that I don’t remember not cooking. I made most of the meals for my aunt and uncle. I didn’t always get to eat what I cooked though, and cooking for them made me feel small.” Harry took a bite of bread and glanced up, making sure that Neville was listening. “I’m really tired of take-away. I think it’d be good to make stuff again. Good food, that makes people feel good. I think that might make me feel good too.”

Neville smiled, as Harry sliced another piece of bread and put it on Neville’s plate. “This all tastes really good. I have no idea how to cook, myself. It’s incredible.” Harry looked happy for once, and that made Neville feel warm inside, not just from the soup. “You’ll make me fat again,” Neville joked. Harry’s demeanor changed immediately, and he was brooding, stirring his soup around aimlessly. Neville waited again.

“You don’t mean that.” Harry looked up and made eye contact. This time, it was Harry who waited.

Neville took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. The problem wasn’t merely the well-intentioned comments about something so personal from people he barely knew. It was the boiling frustration of people— people who had stayed safe and hidden during the war while he’d kept children from starving and being slaughtered—acting like the fact that he’d lost weight was because of some wonderful diet. He’d been starving, making sure the younger students had enough to eat. He didn’t feel comfortable in his body anymore, missed the way it used to be soft and innocent. He closed his eyes and felt tears squeeze out.

“I don’t feel like me,” he admitted, “Everyone tells me how great I look, but I’m always so hungry and I don’t feel like me.” He took a deep shuddering breath, and when he opened his eyes, his soup bowl was full again. Harry was at the sink, running water to do dishes the Muggle way. Neville ate his fill, and brought his bowl to the sink.

**Eight Years After the Battle of Hogwarts**

Neville’s in the process of cutting the celery when Luna gets home. She arrives in a blur of color and noise, and her fingers are cold when she sneaks them under his shirt, making him hiss. He leans back against her slightly, and lets himself be lulled into hearing about her day as he chops celery and onions. She’s currently writing a paper on muggle cryptids, and has been taking a portkey between their home in London and the Scottish Highlands every day to search for something she affectionately calls Nessie. She hasn’t found it yet, but she’s very excited about some migratory patterns in the Atlantic Salmon that live there and could be the key to predicting Nessie’s feeding habits. 

She offers to help him in the kitchen, but Neville has learned that she can be a bit unpredictable when it comes to spices, so he waves her off to go take a bath and warm up instead. Luna kisses him on the cheek, then softly, urging him to turn his head, on his mouth. She has to stand a bit on tiptoe, and he sets the knife down to wrap his arms around her waist, properly greeting her home for the day. She floats off down the hall, and the house seems warmer just with her home. He can hear her down the hall, adjusting the temperature of the bath, and playing with the colors of the bubbles to add.

The vegetables are softening, and he begins to chop the garlic and fresh herbs, rosemary, thyme, and dill from his balcony garden, taking a moment to be thankful that magic can keep his plants warm year round. It’s mindless work, comforting in its repetition.

**Hogwarts, 7th Year**

Neville laid in bed and tried in vain to keep from thinking of his empty stomach. It rumbled, just to remind him it was empty, as if he’d forgotten. He hadn’t forgotten, but there was limited food available and so many mouths to feed. The connection to The Hog’s Head had helped, but not to the point that Neville felt comfortable eating his fill. He’d eaten yesterday, and hoped he’d eat again tomorrow, but Aberforth hadn’t sent much through today, and after making sure all the younger students ate, there hadn’t been any left for him. 

His stomach rumbled again, and he rolled over, feeling heartsick and lonely. It had been terrible when Luna went missing. He and Ginny tried to fill the hole in their little trio but both failed miserably. He’d thought he couldn’t feel worse, but Ginny hadn’t come back after Easter and he missed them both so much he could hardly breathe. Neville wondered if this was how Harry had always felt— so many people looking up to you for direction and feeling completely inadequate. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to think of happier times...

He thought back on the first night they’d spent together, how he’d nearly fallen out of bed in fright when he realized that someone was standing by the edge. He’d sat up immediately, wand in hand, ready to spring into action.

“What’s wrong?” 

Ginny looked uncharacteristically shy, Luna completely unperturbed. “Nothing’s wrong... we’d been working on an essay for McGonagall and it was too late for Luna to go back to Ravenclaw and we just couldn’t sleep, and I wondered…” Ginny raised her eyebrows slightly, and gestured impatiently, as if she was embarrassed of her weakness. Neville blinked, unsure what she was asking. Ginny huffed, and Luna stepped around her and lifted the covers and climbed in next to him, her feet freezing as she tucked them into his calves. He tentatively wrapped an arm around her, and listened as the girls whispered and giggled at first, unsurprised that they hadn’t been able to sleep and worried their noise would wake Seamus. Eventually their breathing slowed and synchronized with his. Ginny fell asleep first, and Luna rearranged her red hair so it wasn’t in her face. She carefully wiggled around in the small bed until she could look at Neville.

“I think you make her feel safe,” she whispered, her eyes even larger than usual in the moonlight.

“Ah...happy I can fill in for Harry,” he whispered back, unsure. Luna looked at him contemplatively.

“You’re no one’s fill in, Nev. It’s just the way you are, the way you catch everyone’s needs. I love Harry, but he’s quite obtuse sometimes. You’re watching over all of us, taking care of us all. It makes me feel safe too.” Luna leaned forward, and tentatively brushed her lips over his. She pulled back and wiggled around so that she was spooning Ginny. Neville uncomfortably tried to take up as little space as possible in the small bed, until Ginny, less asleep than he’d previously thought, reached over Luna and pulled him into their embrace. The three of them wrapped together for the first time, but not the last...

Neville shook off the memory as he turned over again in the Room of Requirement. His bed was bigger here, magically adjusted to fit his long limbs, but he missed the feeling of the girls tight against him, Ginny’s soft snores in his ear on nights when he was in the middle, the way Luna’s feet tangled with his in the night. It made him feel braver, having them next to him. He wasn’t sure what was worse — the empty stomach or the empty bed. He rubbed at his eyes and tried not to sniffle, tried to be strong for the younger kids.

**Eight Years After the Battle of Hogwarts**

Neville can’t help but jump when Ginny speaks. He’s been lost in memories and didn’t hear her come home.

“Is Luna in the bath?” Ginny’s dumping her stuff in the hall, sorting through a week’s worth of dirty laundry she’d been carting around in her Harpies gym bag. She eventually grabs it all in a big armful and runs it to the laundry room. Neville makes a roux with the vegetables, adding chicken broth slowly so it thickens like Harry taught him so many years ago. When Ginny comes back she’s naked. He raises his eyebrows at her and she laughs, a bright sound that fills the kitchen and his heart. “My clothes were muddy. I threw them in the laundry and am gonna hop in the shower. How long until dinner’s done?” 

She leans in and kisses him, smelling of grass and mud and sweat. Neville wrinkles his nose slightly, and she hits his shoulder when she sees his face, but laughs again. “Jones worked us hard today! I told you I’m going to shower!”

“Fifteen minutes until dinner!” He calls at her retreating back and she gives him a thumbs up as she disappears into the bathroom. He can hear the girls’ voices, the bathtub emptying and the shower turning on as he adds the leftover roast chicken from the night before to the soup. It’s already in small pieces from being picked off the bones, a trick that he and Harry learned together during the year they lived together. 

He turns the heat down so that it’s barely simmering and stirs in a bit of cream. Exactly fifteen minutes later, the bathroom door opens and Ginny and Luna exit in a fragrant haze of steam. Ginny’s wearing leggings and an oversized shirt that has an excessive amount of fringe. Neville’s pretty sure he’s seen Luna wear the same shirt as a dress and he vaguely wonders who it belonged to originally. Luna’s in a lavender tank top that advertises a Thai brewery that Harry visited on his travels and a pair of white boyshorts. Ginny sits at the table and reads Harry’s latest letter to the three of them while Luna braids her wet hair and Neville brings dinner over.

“Tell Luna when she finds Nessie she should come help the Americans find Bigfoot next. I’d go back to Portland to help her. The Pacific Northwest is beautiful. It’s very peaceful, and the streets and buildings in Victoria remind me of home. I like being close to the sea. I saw a whale a couple days ago. You’ll never believe it, but Draco Malfoy said he would take me kayaking soon and I’m really looking forward to it. He’s been living here since the war and is so different. I suppose we all are though. 

“Show Neville the picture I sent of the fish and chips and remind everyone that you’re all welcome to visit any time. I’m going to stay in Victoria for a while. I miss you all. Give my love to Luna and Nev.” 

Ginny finishes reading the letter, and there’s some daydreaming of visiting Harry and speculation on the nature of his and Draco’s relationship. The girls both dip up hearty portions of Neville’s chicken soup, and he smiles as they both compliment it appreciatively. Luna thinks it might be good with the addition of cinnamon, making both Ginny and Neville laugh as she adds it to her own bowl, making a face after she’s tried it and declares Neville’s version better. After dinner it’s Ginny’s turn to do dishes, but Neville and Luna sit in the kitchen with her, Neville writing Harry back and Luna researching Bigfoot. Ginny hums a bit as she does dishes. When the dishes are finished, they settle on the couch together, watching a show Luna found about Bigfoot. Neville thinks their evidence for finding Bigfoot is a bit shoddy, but Ginny is shushing him and asking Luna questions that are partially joking and partially serious.

Ginny shakes him awake gently on the couch, and he follows her sleepily down the hall to their bedroom. Luna has already made up all three of their toothbrushes and they take turns dancing around each other for the faucet and sink before collapsing into bed together. He’s used to the way Luna curls away from him, her feet tangling with his and the way Ginny snuggles close under his arm.

“You’re always so warm, Nev.” Her hand roams his chest, slipping under his shirt and soothing over his stomach, warm and full from dinner. He’s grown to like his size, and the smallness of both the girls on either side of him makes him feel big in a good way. Ginny leans up over him to kiss Luna, then kisses him, settling in beside him and he’s lulled to sleep again, content.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! [Find me on tumblr @kittycargo](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kittycargo/blog/kittycargo)


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